despite snow
despite cold
though it makes no sense
this heart
still unbuttons its coat
Archive for December, 2011
what a year it’s been tanka
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged opening, poem, relationship, snow, tanka, vulnerability on December 31, 2011| 2 Comments »
early winter haiku
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged becoming one with the all that is, haiku, learning to sing, songbird on December 30, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Advice
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged advice, drink water on December 29, 2011| 1 Comment »
They used to say,
Drink wine, and then
they said only red,
and then they said
none. They used
to say, Two eggs a day,
and then they said
don’t. And now
eggs are in vogue
again and next year,
you know they won’t.
Yes cholesterol,
no cholesterol. Yes
to wheat, no.
No to baby oil.
Yes to sunscreen, now
they say go bare.
There’s just one place
where all the theys
seem to agree:
drink water. Lots
of water.
I don’t know
who they are,
but take it
(or leave it)
from me.
The New Chapbook is Out!
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, conversations with a mystic, find holiness in the everyday, imagination, poems, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Rumi, The Miracle Already Happening on December 28, 2011| 2 Comments »
The Miracle Already Happening: Everyday life with Rumi
Poems by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
50 pages
Liquid Light Press, 2011
$12
What would happen if a Sufi mystic showed up in your kitchen? Or at your son’s elementary school choir concert? Or in your garden? In this playful chapbook, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer has poetic conversations with Rumi through his translations by Daniel Ladinsky and Coleman Barks and through her imagination. Whimsical and humble, these are poems of discovery, praise, and unlearning, invitations to find holiness in every moment, every place. Even Walmart.
What people are saying about “The Miracle Already Happening”:
A delightful collection of poems to savor and treasure … a deep oasis for all who seek to experience the sacred in every moment.
—Elizabeth H. Small, editor, Poems of Awakening
A rare treat: a rigorous conversation with the past made fresh by vulnerability, playfulness, humor and knockout surprise. There is so much integrity here, and discipline, and grace. And restraint, and cutting loose all at once. All this in poems that can be surrounded by a great quietness. The sensation can be like listening for birdsong, and having the bird silently and suddenly land on your shoulder. If you don’t fall over, you will shout or laugh.
—Peter Heller, author, Kook, and The Whale Warriors
One of the wonders of recent poetry has been the renewed popularity of the Sufi mystic, Rumi. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer confirms that great poet’s new life in remarkable poems of her own, conversations with a distant master that make us aware just how near he really is, how helpful in his teaching.
—David Mason, Colorado Poet Laureate, 2010-2014
How to Order:
To order a signed copy: email Rosemerry at wordwoman@mesa.net and include your mailing address and to whom you want your books signed. She will send you an invoice for the book plus shipping.
To order onine: http://liquidlightpress.com/rwt.htm
Listening to the Place Inside
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, change, integrity, poem, rhyme, silence, transformation on December 28, 2011| 1 Comment »
New song
new drum
new groove
new hum
new rhythm
new hit
new favorite
and silence
does not change
one bit.
And So Many Holes and Dropped Stitches
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, knitting, poem, transformation on December 27, 2011| 1 Comment »
learning to knit
I imagine
we are made
of the same cloth
one thread
many knots
&
what
shape
will we take?
What’s Working on Us Even Now?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, lose the self, snowmen, transformation on December 27, 2011| 1 Comment »
the snowmen
make it look
easy
to lose the self
they do not
ask how
nor does
the sun
ask permission
to help
Overheard on the Chairlift
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged boys, chairlift, cursing, found poem, poem, spelling lesson on December 25, 2011| 1 Comment »
I know the F word
says the seven year old.
It’s Fuck.
There is no snarl
in the syllable,
only amusement
that a word
is called
by the same
first letter
that begins his name.
Oh yeah,
says the other seven year old,
who’s name begins
with C,
I know the C word.
He waits
for the F boy
to guess,
then says,
It’s Kissing.
haiku
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, relief, shoveling, sunlight, winter on December 25, 2011| 1 Comment »
Rapunzel Reconsiders Tanka
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged rapunzel, retreat, seclusion, tanka on December 23, 2011| 2 Comments »
On second thought,
the tower is nice.
Quiet.
You can keep
the braid.
Counting Blessings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apocalypse, gratitude, poem, winter on December 22, 2011| 3 Comments »
Three degrees,
snow on the drive
the ninth stargazer
lily opened
and there was no
apocalypse—
no horsemen four,
no asteroid,
no anti-Christ.
That made this first
cold day of winter
very, very nice.
Take Five
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cold, fall in love with the world, look up, opening, poem, solstice, truth on December 22, 2011| 3 Comments »
the truth
enters
the room
like a cold
cold breeze—
sometimes
we’re ready
for a break
from the heat,
sometimes
it’s just
so
cold
*
it’s not
as if we
can make ourselves
fall in love
with the world,
but I’ve noticed
that when
I look up
it’s more
likely
*
it is
after all
the longest night
and even though
tomorrow
it’s only one
more minute
of light
it is one
more
minute
*
I have been praying
for openings,
and behind
every door
that opens
another door
*
with my one
minute more
I don’t know
what I’ll do—
but I hope
I remember
to
look
up
Eight Attempts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged emptiness, how do we understand the world?, poem, tanka sequence, time, touch, words on December 20, 2011| 2 Comments »
on our fingers,
six layers of skin
because
our hands
are made to touch
*
my daughter
picks a small stone
from the parking lot
and puts it
in her mouth
*
how do we know
what is real?
the stone
in the mouth
smooth and gritty and cold
*
the days
are so short.
they turn
into years
that are so, so short
*
and have we touched
enough?
the fingers
still have much
skin left
*
I am being
eroded
but you can’t see …
it’s all inside
the canyons deepening
*
I used to rush
to fill in
emptiness—
small stones
sinking into a pond
*
already
I have said
too much.
Here
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged being present, cairns, clarity, obstacles, path, poem, rocks, the way on December 20, 2011| 3 Comments »
Perhaps
these rocks
that look
like stumb-
ling blocks
are cairns,
and I
have, with
such diligence,
been kicking
them from
my way—
oh foolish
woman
who thought
that she
was lost.
Bliss Except When It Is Not
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged children, Christmas, ideal, jingle bells, mothering, poem, tree, what is real on December 18, 2011| 3 Comments »
We took a ride
in a one horse open
sleigh today,
and I was one horse
and the red sled
was the open sleigh
and the kids laughed
and reeled as we
trudged through
the field and
searched for the perfect
Christmas tree,
which was not
hard to find.
The noon sun, it caught
in large facets of snow
and we sang, “o’er the fields
we go, laughing …”
but just as we got
to the laughing part
and I was belting
“Ho ho ho,”
the kids began kicking
each other and throwing
snow in each other’s faces
and tipping the red sled
so that they tumbled out
not giggling at all
but shrieking,
“I hate you! Go away!”
And this is how
the bliss goes,
sometimes it looks
a lot like bliss
and sometimes
no.
The Real Gift
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, friendship, gifts, giving, nakedness, poem, receiving on December 18, 2011| 1 Comment »
I give you bread.
You no longer eat wheat.
You give me a shirt.
There’s a small grease stain.
We both laugh. Neither
of us bothered to wrap.
Tonight I wear the shirt
and feel pretty.
Tonight you eat the bread
and it tastes like buttered love.
I keep thinking of how
we walked today,
the snow so deep, the air
so warm, the sky as clear,
as beautiful as your face
when all the masks come off.
You Wonder How Long this Can Go On
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, judgment, loss, poem, what is eternal, wonder, wordless on December 17, 2011| 2 Comments »
Beside the frozen pond
there is not much to say.
The black willows coruscating
seem more satisfactory
than syllables. They do not try
to say, do not try to mean,
they simply catch the fleeting sun
and then lose it all—the ice,
the shine, the crystal gloss.
Though they do not think
of it as loss. You are the one
who decides what is lovelier.
You are the one who is moved
by light. Night, it comes so soon,
but it is nothing personal. Not
a symbol. It is night.
You are the one who longs
for sun. You are the one who
would rather be something gold
than the one shivering
beside the pond, the frozen pond,
where even now the wind
is shaking the willows,
it moves across the ice,
moves through the field
while you stand there, silent,
and it will keep moving
long after you have gone.
Second Hand
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged being present, clock, now, poem, time on December 15, 2011| 4 Comments »
The watchmaker burns
the plans she’d drawn
and winds the blood
of her own clock. Drip.
Drop. She is delinquent.
She is crow. The only time
she tocks is now.
you come too haiku
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged full moon, haiku, shadow, unity, unselving on December 14, 2011| 1 Comment »
full moon
me and the cottonwood tree
one long shadow
We All Live Like This
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged grace, ice crystal, life, light, poem, transience, willow on December 13, 2011| 1 Comment »
The willow branch
hung in rime
just as the sun
begins to shine
is a hopeless place
to be a bloom of ice,
but for that moment
such grace, such light.